down. Ah, here they are. They haven't been long."

For there was a faint rattle of a latch-key in the door, and Robert
Clareborough entered, in company with the brothers, the former looking
excited and anxious, the two latter stern and as if prepared for the
worst.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

GRIM DEATH.

As the door banged to and was locked, Roach uttered a wild cry and threw
himself upon the floor, covering the back of his head with his hands, as
he thrust it into the corner farthest from where the powder was
sputtering and sending up tiny clouds of smoke.

Arthur shrank away against the wall for a moment, glancing wildly at the
broken lantern and the lamp-wick, burning still in a little pool of oil,
while the powder kept flashing out, darting from grain to grain, where
they had been scattered about the floor. Then the tiny flames divided,
one set running towards the portmanteau, in which the partially-emptied
tin had been thrown, the other going by fits and starts in the direction
of the iron entry.

This nerved the younger man to desperation, and he made a dash at the
grains upon the floor, to sweep them away before they reached the loaded
door, feeling convinced, in his agony of fear, that the little burning
train would somehow communicate with the powder with which he had
charged the lock. But in spite of his efforts the fire was too quick,
the flame running swiftly along by the bottom of the frame, and with a
yell of despair he dashed to the other corner of the far side of the
lobby, to imitate the butler, expecting to hear the charge explode, and
then the iron door driven back to crush them to death.

It seemed long minutes to the two wretched men as they crouched there
with their eyes shut, but it was only the matter of a few seconds'
suspense before the little chamber was in total darkness, and filled
with the dull, dank reek of the burnt powder.

At last the footman raised his head cautiously, with hope reviving. The
charge had not gone off and the tin had not been reached.

He looked in the direction of the great safe, but all was black, and,
rising slowly, he felt his way to the door to try if it were really
fast; while as his hands glided over it he found that it fitted so
closely that he could hardly make out the crack between door and frame.
The main object of his search, though, was for the lock, in the hope
that he should be able to force it off with one of the wedges, and then,
armed as